


Demon Deadeye

by Charley79



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, pre-McHanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:28:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27330484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charley79/pseuds/Charley79
Summary: Jesse always knew he had a demon in him. And its an evil thing he tries to keep hidden and fight alone. Maybe he doesn't have to, anymore.
Relationships: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada
Comments: 2
Kudos: 55
Collections: Danger & Dread: A McHanzo Horror Collection





	Demon Deadeye

**Author's Note:**

> Had a lot of fun working with the Danger and Dread group and its always fun to play in the dark places of poor Jesse's mind.

Jesse always had the demon in him. When he was in Deadlock it had just been so easy to be cold, ruthless. But ever since he’d learned Deadeye from Ana he knew it in the literal sense. Had known when he heard her call it by name that he truly had something evil inside him. He’d tried to push it back. Locking it up tight after every use.

And that had worked, for a while. He’d push it back, ignoring the dark, quiet chuckling. But it got harder every time he did. The chuckling echoed longer. The world got darker. And then an op went pear-shaped. 

Jesse knew, even as he took aim, that it was going to be bad. What had been a quiet, low, chuckle built into a vibrating rumble in his chest. A resounding laugh that oozed intent down his spine as he fanned the hammer. 

He’d been happy he was alone when he got to the safe house. It was terrifying enough for  _ him  _ to see the teeth growing out of his face. Watching fangs push through the skin of his cheek in a vertical line from just below his lips to almost his hairline. Watching as his right eye socket burned red and a maw opened in the center. He still swears the damn thing smirked at him. Which was just … hard to comprehend. What with it being sideways on his own damned face. 

He hadn’t slept a wink that night. Peacekeeper in hand. Fighting to keep his mind from tearing itself apart, with that maw just … chattering on. Damn thing talked more than Gabe said he did. Not all of it in  _ any  _ language meant for human ears, either.

It wasn’t till the sun started to shine through the pulled blinds that the chattering turned to hissing. He could _feel_ the curses roiling out of his cheek. As the sun continued rising, it started to pull back. He could feel those teeth retracting. Could feel the ripped skin knitting itself back together. And the demon made sure he felt _every single_ _piece_ melting back together. 

He did manage to pull himself to the mirror towards the end. Curiosity outweighing the nauseating horror of what he could feel happening. He watched as the last couple tips of fang were pulled back into his cheek. Felt them sink back into his skull. Watched as the skin knit itself back into place.

By the time the sun was fully up, there was no evidence left of the horror Jesse had been living all night. It was so otherworldly, so completely beyond anything he’d ever heard of, he had a hard time believing it had really happened as the day wore on. It was just too incomprehensible. He had almost talked himself into believing that it had been a horridly vivid night terror brought on by his overuse of Deadeye during that FUBAR of a mission.

And then he fell asleep. 

The nightmare was unhinged. There were things that, at the time, he couldn’t truly comprehend. Even years later; he couldn’t say he’d seen  _ all _ the horrors that dream had shown him. But some of those things. Some of them were spot on to things he saw, he  _ did, _ later on in life. 

He’d retched the first time it hit him that the dream was more premonition than nightmare. When it happened for the third time he fell into a foreboding dread; that it wasn’t just the demon inside him that was evil. If those parts had been accurate, what other parts of it were going to come true? What other horrors was  _ he _ going to commit that had been shown to him that first night? 

Between those thoughts and the nightmarish chuckle, now his constant companion, Jesse fell into a very dark place.

He remembers the one time he tried to explain it to Reyes. It had been a bad mission. One that matched a part of the premonition so perfectly he was having a tough time pushing the demon back. It’s claws were digging in. It’s chuckle was so loud that it was hard to hear Reyes speaking. 

Till he barked “JESSE.” Loud. Right in his face.

As he had focused and tried to explain, Reyes focused on his right eye. Holding the gaze. The chuckle rattled and then froze in his lungs. Those wispy fingers digging in with ragged claws. That thing did  _ not _ like Reyes seeing it. Jesse felt a growl like fresh gravel pour into his lungs. Didn’t realize it was coming out his mouth till Reyes brought out his momma’s beads, never taking his eyes off Jesse’s right one. The growl became a howl as Reyes started praying, holding up the beads so that they gleamed in the sun.

The howling echoed in his skull, the migraine striking like a hammer. Harder and uglier than any he’d ever had before from Deadeye. But even as he winced and narrowed his eyes, the glare off those beads flashed right in, bouncing around his head like a ricochet. The demon’s howling was a whirling, pulsing echo of hate pervading his entire body till Jesse was engulfed in a maelstrom of chaos, anger, and pain. 

And Gabe’s voice. That was the only reason Jesse held on to his sanity. Gabe’s constant, monotonous tone cutting through the chaos, giving him something to focus on till everything went black. 

And then he was coming to on his bunk. He could still feel the demon but it had been forced back. So far back that there were no chuckles squeezing his lungs, no ghostly talons running along his spine. His mind was blessedly quiet. He slowly opened his eyes, not wanting to be blinded, but  _ needing _ to know what had happened.

The shades had been drawn and the lights were all dimmed. His gaze rolled over the seemingly normal room. Skimming over all the shadows, not trusting what he might see there. Nothing looked damaged. Then his eyes found Reyes. The man was leaning against the doorframe, his eyes going over Jesse. Taking in movement. Analyzing for threats. The beads were still in his hand and he was looking at Jesse like he didn’t know for sure who he was dealing with.

Jesse took a deep breath, the malicious feeling crashing back to the front. That wicked chuckle got a little louder as Jesse realized that Gabe saw  _ him _ as a threat. Not completely. But that he even had that thought twisted Jesse’s stomach. The gravelly chuckle slithered down his spine, clattering into his lungs as he realized he was alone with this thing.

Jesse kept it under tighter wraps after that. He didn’t want to see that look on another friend’s face and the demon didn’t want to share so it was easier to do. Easier to hide how morose he was getting. Easier to hide how sinister he felt himself becoming after every use. And by the time Anna was gone, and Gabe was falling, Jesse’s world had gotten so dark that he just melted into the blackness and was gone.

For years it was all he had. Gravel in his lungs and ghostly talons wrapped deep into every part of his body. He’d catch his bounties, take them in, and head to the next target. Sometimes he’d fall so far into his ominous thoughts that he couldn’t rightly tell how long he just rode along and let the demon take over. It was easier, and the longer it went on the more Jesse found himself agreeing that most people just deserve justice in the form of a bullet. And he didn’t need any government or authority to give him permission.

There were rare times where something came along and would shine a light into his dark world. Things that got past the demon and brought him back to being the man Gabe had helped him become. Those were the times that showed him how dark he’d become. But he’d try and focus on whatever it was that had shone the light in. A child smiling at him. Folks saying thank you. He’d be able to push his viciousness back, get away from the grip of those talons and feel the light reach him.

Winston’s recall came after one of those times. Having those folks on the train being kind and  _ knowing _ he’d done good; the light had been bright that day. Answering the recall hadn’t felt right yet, still had more to do. But he got Echo headed their way. Knew that she would be of much better use to the team. And he wasn’t so sure they’d take him in. Not with how dark he’d become. The vile things he’d done.

And the gravelly chuckle got down right malicious every time he questioned himself about it. 

Now here he was, back in the thick of a mission going sideways; short on numbers and long on odds. But he sees his team, knows what he’s got to do. Stands up. And takes out the entire Talon team with a Deadeye like none of them have ever seen. Hell, he hasn’t taken out that many at once in years. And from the way his lungs absolutely shake with a gravelly laugh, the demon loved it. Letting go like that always did get the thing’s rocks off.

He sees the others take off at the sound of sirens and he hot-foots it for an old Blackwatch safe house. Nobody else knows about it except maybe Genji, but he was at the point with Angela. Won’t be heading this way. And Jesse has  _ got _ to get somewhere alone. He can feel the teeth pushing through. The flesh tearing open around his right eye as the maw opens wide; the corners curling up in an evil smile. And he’s just happy he wasn’t seen on his sprint here.

He circles the building, doing a cursory check by rote, but the racket in his head is so loud he just wants to go in. He ducks through the door as dark sounding gibberish starts pouring out of the maw that used to be his right eye. He has to lean against the door, fingers slipping as they work to lock the deadbolt and chain. Then he lurches into the bathroom, gibberish pouring out of the maw, blocking out all other noises. The icy, ghostly talons are digging their claws in. He swears they’re shredding him from the inside out. The gibberish is incomprehensible, short circuiting his brain cause it can’t process what his ears are hearing. It’s running roughshod through him. Squeezing his innards like a kid with play doh.

He’s adrift. Being swallowed up in the maelstrom without Gabe’s voice to help him find reality. And then he feels a gentle slide over his wrist, smooth like pebbles from a river bed. Calm. Cool. Pushing the maelstrom, the talons, the demon himself back.

For the first time since he fired those rounds, Jesse can breathe. And he fills his lungs as the gibberish quiets. And then he hears Hanzo’s voice. His normal eye goes wide. He hadn’t even realized the archer was there and now there’s no way to hide. The bathroom lights are glaringly bright and Jesse can see Hanzo looking at him. Looking at it. That inner gibberish is laughing darkly at him, vividly reminding him of how Reyes looked at him. Jesse drops his eye to the sink, sucking in a breath, not wanting to see that look of fear, of distrust, again. Especially not on Hanzo’s face.

“May want to get outta here, Darlin.” He chokes out, defeated, and turns his cursed side from the archer. “Not gonna get any better.”

“Do you truly wish for me to go?” Hanzo asks evenly, no judgement in his voice.

The gibberish picks up. The damn thing is smirking at the archer, leering as only a demonic growth can. Jesse shakes his head, clearing it and covering up some of the demon in the same breath. Wanting the damn thing to shut up. He hasn’t even made a move on Hanzo; ain’t no way his  _ demon _ jumps the line.

“No.” Jesse grunts, frustrated but hesitant. “But I’m barely holding this thing in, and I don’t want it to hurt you.”

He slowly brings his eye up to the Archer’s. Hanzo gives him a level look, cocking a brow, and then reaches a hand up and cups Jesse’s left cheek softly. Jesse freezes. 

They’ve never done this. Sure, they’ve shot the shit in the training range and tended to run into each other when they felt like not drinking alone. And yes, there have been some long glances and Jesse’s flirting has become more focused on the archer. But neither of them have brought it up. Put a name to it. For Jesse, the reason he’s been hesitant is due to the thing chattering out of the right side of his face right now. He hadn’t been sure where Hanzo stood. Though, the hand gently cupping the normal side of Jesse’s face, and the thumb slowly stroking the corner of his lip are making Jesse wonder if maybe they were on the same page. 

“Would you like help restraining your demon?” Hanzo asks, calmly, as if he hadn’t just openly acknowledged an ancient evil currently growing out of Jesse’s face.

An evil that just started growling.

Jesse’s good eye widens as that growl gets louder. The demon does  _ not _ like that tone, and the teeth start gnashing together. Hanzo just casts a look at the maw and whispers some Japanese under his breath. Instantly, Jesse feels the soothing rustle of scales gently sliding over him. The dragons circling his head. Making the maw quiet down. It’s such a relief that tears spring to his left eye. He takes a deep breath and leans into the hand that hasn’t left his face, meeting the archer’s gaze. 

“Be mighty obliged, Darlin.”

Hanzo gives him a gentle look and then focuses on the maw. His hand keeps Jesse in place, gently cupping it, and the thumb starts stroking over his bottom lip again. He’s not saying anything out loud, but his eyes have gone blue and Jesse can see the dragons pulling away from his tattoo. As Hanzo focuses on the demon, the dragons gently flow over Jesse. Flowing up their master’s arm to Jesse’s face, winding down around the cowboy’s shoulders, giving him a gentle hug before they float up by Hanzo’s face to match eyes with his demon. 

Hanzo nods, his hand falling from Jesse’s cheek and taking the cowboy’s hand, leading Jesse to the bedroom. He motions for Jesse to sit and, kneeling at his feet, stares right into Jesse’s face. He puts his hand on Jesse’s left knee with a reassuring squeeze.

“I was taught many ways to contain and control my spirits from a young age. The most important step was how to commune in the dreamscape. This allows for clearer communication from both sides and a path to stronger control in the real world. I believe this would be the best path for you and I would walk this path with you, if you would allow it?” 

Jesse’s watching Hanzo’s calm demeanor, hearing him offer to teach this control. And it hits Jesse, right between the eyes. Hanzo’s not going anywhere. Hanzo can see the demon, just like Gabe could, but Hanzo is  _ used _ to having powerful beings inside himself. He’s  _ used _ to hearing their screams, holding them at bay, having them work  _ with _ him. For Hanzo, Jesse’s hell is normal.

The realization takes Jesse’s breath away. He’s completely overwhelmed, unable to say anything. The thought that Hanzo is willing to do this with him. Volunteering to help control the demon and helping Jesse focus on containing that vicious, malignant power. 

He tries to push back the trepidation of how Hanzo will react once he sees his dreamscape. Instead, setting his sights on the demon itself, knowing which memories they would be going through. Because the bastard does have a favorite playlist of Jesse’s nightmares.

Hanzo puts his hand on the center of Jesse’s chest and gently pushes. 

“It is better to be lying down for this.” He says, reassuring in the face of the cowboy’s obvious worry.

Jesse’s going to blame the adrenaline, and the fact Hanzo is on his left side, for what he says next.

“If you wanted to get me in bed Sugar, all you had to do was ask.” The wink he adds to lighten the mood 

Hanzo scoffs in that breathy way that Jesse’s learned is his laugh, just like he’d hoped.

“Hush cowboy,” He starts, then gives Jesse a heated once over, “such things are for later.”

Jesse freezes. Not quite sure he heard right, but the archer still has that look on his face and suddenly Jesse has a LOT of motivation to get through this. He gives Hanzo a look of his own and they both get comfortable on the bed, take a deep breath, and close their eyes.

Jesse hates when he’s right. It’s just like his nightmares and he and Hanzo are in the thick of it.

First up is the family that got caught in the middle of a sting operation in Poland. They’d come into view just as he’d popped out of cover and engaged Deadeye. Too late for him to stop. The little girl’s eyes had still been open when he’d ran over, but she was gone. 

Just like the day it happened; he bends down and gently runs his hand down her face, closing them. As he stands Hanzo is there, the blue of his dragons making him glow in a full body outline. The archer nods, resolve and understanding in his gaze. Both of which help Jesse focus back on the task at hand.

Next is the one where he tortured a Talon operative for days, not realizing that the guy was more mind fucked than Amelie. He’s still not sure if he would have heard anything if the guy had talked. His team had been shot up bad and he’d been pissed when he went in that room; completely compromised. He’d basically handed it over to the demon and said “Have. Fun.” 

The bastard reminds him of that one, its voice cooing in his ear how much it appreciated Jesse letting it come out and play. 

Jesse’s face is stony as Hanzo steps forward, saying something in Japanese. His dragons flow forward, surrounding Jesse. As he watches, the hazy … whatever that is the demon back away, growling. The dragons pay it no mind as they reassuringly flow over him, letting him feel the ghost of scales glide across his torso. Jesse turns to the archer, giving him a thankful look. Hanzo nods and tilts his head for them to continue on.

Next up is one of the first truly ugly memories he has of Deadlock. He stares down at the image of his smug young face. Gazing into the cold eyes of someone who mercilessly cut down an informant with a hat tip and a smile. He remembers Ashe asking about it later. She’d laughed when he shrugged and said the guy wasn’t Deadlock material. Even knowing it was coming, Jesse still feels like he’s been gut punched. Remembering how cold, how unfeeling he had been. He shakes his head and feels that chuckle getting louder, meaner, more sinister. His chest starts vibrating with that cold, gravely rumble. He feels Hanzo looking, and when he slides a look over, Jesse’s surprised to see no judgement. Hanzo is just there, a calming presence, supporting him. Jesse shakes his head. Of course Hanzo wouldn’t judge. ‘Yakuza, dumbass!’

The next memory has his heart wrenching the same as it did the day Geneva fell. As fresh and raw as if he was sitting in that shitty bar, watching the news reports. The guilt of ‘what if’ ringing in his ears. The pain of having lost  _ every _ person that was important to him. The absolute devastation that rolls through him when Gabe’s name is listed with the dead. He spins to the side, dry heaving like he had when it happened. He can feel Hanzo rubbing his back, keeping watch while Jesse can’t.

Next up is Anna. They’d had tea that last day. She was teasing him that he was growing too serious, but there was real worry in her eyes. The way she’d looked at him, he’d known he hadn’t kept the darkness hidden well enough. But as she started to ask, her comm had gone off. She’d cast a concerned look at him as she stood up, saying they’d have to do this again when she came back. He’d tipped his hat, shamefully relieved at the out, and nodded. He still feels shame like a knife that he’d been relieved when she was called away. So he’d have time to hide it better. To lie to her. 

And then she  _ didn’t _ come back. The hollow feeling of shame in his heart is clawed out raw all over again. The demon’s talons gleefully rip open all those old wounds.

That chuckle is constant now; all around him. Jesse feels light-headed, black spots in his vision. He’s got to remember to breathe. The really bad ones are up next. His throat constricts at the thought. The chuckle oozes its way out his throat, a solid red smoke, stealing his air. Jesse’s view is getting spotty.

A blue glow slashes through the black. The sound of determined Japanese washes over him in a confidant voice that Jesse would know anywhere. His lungs expand, the fierce squeezing giving way to a gentle one, The echo of scales gliding over him. He can feel Hanzo standing between him and the demon now, and the demon doesn’t sound so sure of itself anymore.

Then it growls a particularly nasty sound and doubles down, throwing the last two straight at Jesse. No space between.

Momma’s tears falling as he tells her he’s going with Ashe. That he’s gonna make something of himself. Something more than rolling on his belly and fighting every second to barely have crumbs. He hears himself say he’ll come back when he can take care of her. Sees her face, tears still falling, as she stands tall and says “no, you won’t.” He’d been so full of himself. Hadn’t even considered the chance he’d never see her again. No thought that  _ that _ would be the last time he saw her. 

Jesse falls to his knees, watching his past self. Never said good-bye, just strutted off the porch like he owned the world. Why?! Just because he and Ashe were going to start something?! God, he had been so stupid! The tears stream down his face and he lets them fall. After everything else Hanzo already saw this is small potatoes, and Jesse has no pride left. That memory always rips it out of him and he’s not sure he’ll be able to keep going. Head hanging as inconsolable grief and crushing regret keep him to his knees.

Then Jesse feels two fingers under his chin and gentle pressure for his head to rise. Slowly, he does, coming face to face with the softest eyes he’s ever seen on the archer.

“Your mother loved you very much.” Hanzo murmurd. “She would tell you that you have become a good man.”

Hanzo holds Jesse’s gaze until he nods. A rock of calm in this emotional hellscape. Jesse looks up at the man, just taking Hanzo in for what seems like the first time. The man’s dragons are standing guard over his shoulders. He is poised, ready for attack, but not tense. A man trained to be lord and master over everything he sees. And then he turns his gaze back to Jesse and the cowboy realizes that  _ he _ is Jesse’s rock. Hanzo’s quiet confidence and self assurance is Jesse’s for the taking while they're here. That is what the archer is offering. Guarded passage and guidance in a realm where Jesse has been alone for so long. Jesse swallows and gets to his feet. Hanzo is right. Momma would have told him he’d done good. That she was proud of him.

He just needs to keep that thought front and center for the last one.

He sees his abuela on her porch, when he finally went home on leave from Blackwatch. Jesse knows this one isn’t real. Knows that the old woman took him in her arms as he sank to his knees when she told him about his momma passing. That she’d gotten sick, had been calling for Jesse gently as she closed her eyes that last time. Nana had hugged him tight to her and rocked his large frame, comforting him.

But the demon twists it. Uses Jesse’s own guilt to show Nana screaming at him. Pointing down at an open grave screaming “Where were you!?” And his momma sitting up in the casket. Body eaten away by maggots. Her long, beautiful hair now stringy and falling from her scalp in clumps. Her eyes…they're gone. The left socket is a black abyss where he can see wriggling maggots. But the right socket. That one is the red of the demon’s maw. Drawing Jesse closer. Even as his mother’s lips stretch over bone. As her yellowing teeth part to screech “You did this!” he draws closer.

Jesse can’t stop this. He thinks he hears someone yelling but they're so far away. Their voice is carried away as Jesse feels himself falling into the red, glowing void of that eye socket. Not seeing that it’s become the maw that grows out of his face. Not noticing that the red glow is stretching out. That it’s talons are reaching for him.

And then he’s surrounded by that gentle blue light again. Being drawn back. Jesse knows that glow. Knows the owner of the voice he can finally hear. That voice is getting louder, calming Jesse. Ghostly scales wind around his wrist, helping him back away from that eye and the nightmare morphs into something closer to memory. Jesse shakes his head, feeling the demon getting pushed back, and looks at Hanzo. He doesn’t remember getting so far away from the other man but the archer is at his side now, and his face is no longer impassive. He is livid. And focused. Standing completely between Jesse and the demon.

The demon who is now howling. The very air of the dreamscape shakes with it’s outrage at losing it's hold over Jesse. It knashes its teeth as Jesse squares up and ambles forward. He’s calm, collected, cool even. Normally, at this point, he’s sweating, shaking, fighting down guilty nausea with his eyes blown wide at the ghosts of the past. But this time, oh this time, is different. 

He looks back at Hanzo and the other man smirks, taking in his look. He gives Jesse a once over just heated enough to bring a flush to the cowboy’s face. Then he nods. Jesse winks, turns, and faces his  _ literal _ demon. It isn’t the one in control this time. Jesse can feel the dragons’ scales touching him and he’s fully aware of them. He’s not alone and the demon does NOT like that at all.

Jesse squares up, walking right up to it. He can’t help but smirk as he puts a cigar in his mouth, confidant like any other shootout under the noon day sun. He slowly lifts his hat brim with his trigger finger, taking in the burning horned figure that’s tormented most of his life.

“Howdy, friend. What say you and me have a little chat.”


End file.
